


Come on down to Hell

by shittystorywriter



Category: South Park
Genre: Death, Drama, Friendship, Hell, Humor, Illness, Pandemic - Freeform, Sad, Suicide, Virus, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittystorywriter/pseuds/shittystorywriter
Summary: A virus has infected the town and everyone is catching it. Stan is left to help Kyle while his parents are gone. Things take a dramatic turn.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski & Stan Marsh
Kudos: 9





	Come on down to Hell

Kyle, dizzy and fatigued, walked with a wobble and looked like he was going to stumble over or fall. As he began to lean sideways, Stan grasped him to help keep him from falling. Kyle coughed, trying to look away from his friend. "Hey, get away from me, I don't want you getting sick too."

"It's fine, I'm sure I'm going to catch it eventually anyway, if I don't already have it." Stan sighed, frustrated as he looked around the jam packed waiting room. "Let's get you back in the car."

Kyle leaned on his shoulder as he walked weakly out of the hospital. As they walked through the parking lot they saw an ambulance flying into the lot. "I told you they'd turn me away. I look too young to be seriously ill. They'll only take older people since they're more at risk."

Stan looked angry. "Kyle, you only have one kidney, you ARE at risk. This is bullshit! I'm taking you to another hospital." 

Kyle coughed and shook his head. "No dude, just let me go home, I want to lay down in my bed."

"But you need help!"

"I'll be...hfff...fine."

"You don't look or sound like you're fine. You look really bad."

"I just need to rest it off. I've had the flu before and survived. This will be no different."

Stan shook his head, frustrated with his friend's stubbornness. "Fine, whatever. I give up. I hope your parents don't get mad at me for not taking you to a hospital."

"Don't worry about them." Kyle coughed again. "We don't even have to tell them I got sick. I'll get better before they return."

They reached the car and left the hospital. On the drive home they passed by a Wollymart, witnessing the huge line going out the door, and shoppers running out of the store in a frenzy. Many of them had their carts piled up with items. A fight broke out when a man tried to steal toilet paper from another shoppers cart.

They then passed a man in a chicken suit standing along the side of the road, holding a sign that read something about the end of the world.

"Man, people are fucking crazy in this country," Kyle commented, sighing.

Stan chuckled. "No shit, especially in this town."

When they reached his house, Stan helped Kyle get out and helped him walk inside. Kyle, seemingly out of breath, plopped down on the living room sofa. 

"Do you need anything?" Stan asked, looking worriedly at his heavily breathing friend. 

Kyle shook his head. "Nope. I'm good." He coughed some more. 

"God dammit, just let me take you to the other hospital! If you die I'm gonna be depressed and feel guilty for the rest of my life."

Kyle laughed, his throat crackling as he did so. "Relax! I'm not dying. Just have a sore throat."

"Can we at least go tomorrow morning? It would make me feel better knowing you got properly checked by a doctor."

"Who are you, my mom?" Kyle continued to laugh. His laughter turned into wheezing and coughing, which left him struggling to breathe. 

Stan watched in shock. "This isn't funny. We're going to the other hospital." He attempted to pull Kyle up off the couch. Kyle lamely stood up, still trying to catch his breath. He ended up sitting back down, holding his chest. 

"Shit, are you OK?!" Stan asked worriedly.

Kyle kept wheezing. He shook his head. Eventually he caught his breath. Each breath he took sounded shallow and crackly. "Hhh..fuck, I guess I am....really sick."

Stan tried to keep calm, even though he was panicking on the inside. "Can you get back in the car or should I call an ambulance?"

Kyle sighed and shook his head, attempting to stand up. He wheezed and almost fell over. Stan caught him and ended up scooping him up in his arms, picking him up. He quickly carried him outside to his car and put him in the back seat.

He heard Kyle coughing a lot more as he began to drive to the other hospital. "Just hang in there bud. I won't let them turn you away this time."

"I feel bad that you're doing all this for me," Kyle weakly replied. "You should be at home enjoying our days off."

"Shut up. I can't enjoy the day if you're dangerously ill. And don't worry about it, I would do anything for you," Stan replied, immediately regretting how gay that sounded.

"Aw, aren't you sweet," Kyle replied, laughing in a croakey laughter. 

Stan laughed nervously.

* * *

Hours later, Stan found himself back at home in his bedroom, restless and unable to relax. The other hospital took them more seriously and Kyle was taken away for treatment, but Stan was told to go home so he didn't infect anyone else. He was told he probably had the virus too, but it was barely causing him any symptoms so far. He wished he could take half of Kyle's the pain and sickness for him. 

Kyle hadn't texted him at all, so he was worried. He wondered what they were doing to him and how bad he was. Kyle didn't look good and couldn't stop coughing. 

He rolled over again in his bed, feeling anxious and hot. He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. 

* * *

Stan eventually passed out late that night, waking up the next morning full of sweat. His eyes hurt and his muscles felt a bit achey. 

He sat up and took a deep breath. If he had the virus too, he didn't want his parents catching it from him. Hopefully they didn't already. 

He decided he would go to Kyle's house for his parents safety, since it was empty. Kyle's parents and little brother had gone on a trip abroad and would not be returning anytime soon. All travel into the US had been banned.

He began packing up his clothes and things into bags and headed downstairs. His mother looked at him confused. "What are you doing?"

Stan sighed. "I'm going to Kyle's house. I don't want you guys catching anything from me. It's not safe for me to be in the house with you."

"Honey, you don't have to leave, we probably already have it too. I woke up feeling pretty crappy," Sharon replied, frowning.

"Fuck," Stan replied, pinching his nose. "This is all my fault."

"It's not your fault. It's spreading everywhere. Some people have it and don't even know it," Sharon replied. "Besides, your dad is an idiot who won't stay at home."

Stan shook his head, stressed. "I'm going to stay at Kyle's house just in case. Please tell dad to wash his hands and stop going out. Call me if you need anything."

He was out the door before his mother could respond.

* * *

As he sat on Kyle's couch with his laptop, he heard a ding from his phone. He immediately grabbed it. It was a message from Kyle. He eagerly opened it.

Kyle had sent a photo of himself in the hospital bed with tubes under his nose. His whole face looked red and his eyes had bags under them. He read his text. "So it turns out I have a fever and pneumonia, and have to stay here until it's gone. My parents know I'm here and my mom's freaked out. They say thank you for bringing me. I feel even worse today, having trouble breathing and chest hurts like hell. You were right, I needed to go to a hospital. Thx for helping me, I owe you."

Stan frowned. He began typing a response. "You don't owe me anything, stop saying that. Hope you get better quickly. I wish I could visit but they said I'm not allowed." 

His phone dinged shortly after. "It's alright, I'll see ya when I get out of this hell hole. I'm in a crowded room and I've got old sick people in beds on both sides of me. They're in really bad shape. This is super depressing."

"Ugh that sucks. I'm definitely sick, but not super sick. I'm worried my parents might get it now too. I decided to stay at your house just to be safe." Stan replied. 

"Dude, I'm sorry. You probably caught it from me. And I probably got it from Kenny. How is he by the way? Oh, and you're free to sleep in my bed and eat whatever you find in the fridge or cabinets. Might wanna wash my bed though."

Stan hadn't heard from Kenny lately. He assumed he was still sick at home. The entire McCormick family was sick. It was insane. Everyone was getting sick now. Twenty people had already died in South Park. 

"I don't know how Kenny is, haven't heard from him. Probably still sick," Stan typed in response. 

"And lemme guess, Cartman is still doing fine right? He's like a cockroach, nothing ever harms him."

Stan laughed out loud. The laughing made him cough a bit. "Evil people seem to last forever!" he responded.

Kyle didn't write any more replies after that. Stan decided to just leave him alone to rest.

He ended up falling asleep on Kyle's couch that night, after a day full of doing nothing much but worrying.

* * *

He awoke at 2AM to another ding on his phone. He grabbed his phone off the coffee table and looked at it. A new text from Kyle.

"Kenny died. It's all over Facebook. I feel even worse now."

Stan's jaw dropped. He opened Facebook and saw loads of posts about Kenny's sudden death. This virus was no joke. He felt his stomach sink. He didn't even get to say goodbye to Kenny.

"Oh my god! The virus killed Kenny!" he wrote.

"That bastard," Kyle replied.

Tears rolled down Stan's cheeks. He didn't want his other closest friend to die next. 

* * *

"I can just barely breathe" was the next text message from Kyle that Stan woke up to. He had received it 3 hours ago. 

He panicked and began typing his response. "OMG are you OK??"

Two minutes later he received a reply from Kyle. "I don't know if I'm OK, but I'm still here. I have to try and breathe slowly. I can't move much, my lungs feel like they're drowning. Sharp pain in chest. Sucks big time."

Stan didn't know what to write back. A stream of tears flooded from his eyes. He cried for ten minutes, bawling into the pillow on Kyle's couch. His chest began to hurt badly, whether from being upset or from the virus he wasn't sure. 

Another ding came. "I overheard the doctors talking about possibly putting me on a ventilator if I get any worse. The doctors and nurses here seem like total idiots, so I hope that doesn't happen. One of them accidentally filled someone's IV bag with soap and killed them." He saw dots, indicating that Kyle was typing another message.

"Just in case I don't make it through, thanks for being my best friend, and don't let me possibly dying get you down. We all die some day, maybe now is my time. We've had some amazing times together. PS you can have all my stuff if I do die."

Stan wiped the tears from his eyes and began tapping his phone screen furiously. "Don't even talk like that. You're the most important person in the world to me. If you die, I'll die too."

"I'll try my best not to die, but I can't guarantee anything. My fate is in the hands of my crappy immune system and these idiot doctors. I love you."

"I love you too Kyle. I love you so much. Hang in there. You can get through it. When you get out of there we'll do something fun." Stan's finger hovered over the send button. He eventually hit send.

Hours passed and he did not hear back from Kyle. The hours turned into an entire day of silence. Then two days. He had barely gotten any sleep. The waiting and uncertainty was torturous. It was by then he saw his phone light up and start ringing. 

He immediately grabbed and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello Stan," the shakey voice of Kyle's mother replied. He heard a deep breath on the other end. "Thank you for taking care of our boy for us. They won't let us come home. We called his uncle and he is going to handle the rest." He heard Sheila's voice break, followed by sniffles.

Stan looked confused. "What do you mean handle the rest? He's OK right? He never texted me back."

There was a long pause on the other end. He heard someone elses voice whispering in the background. It sounded like his dad. Then he heard his mother start bawling hysterically. 

"Hi Stan," Gerald picked up the phone. 

"What's wrong?? What happened??" Stan asked, panicking.

"Oh man, you don't know? Oh geez. Uh. We received word from the hospital that Kyle..didn't make it. He couldn't breathe and there was nothing they could do." Gerald began crying on the phone along with Kyle's mother.

Stan's jaw dropped. He hung up the phone and threw it across the room. He sat paralyzed in shock for a few minutes, before breaking down into a mess of tears.

* * *

He got out of his car, walking through the hospital parking lot. His head hung down and his brain numb. He entered the waiting room and went to the front desk. "I need to see my friend."

The desk lady looked at him. "Sorry sir, we are not allowing visitors for safety reasons."

"He's dead. I'm already sick. I don't give a fuck about safety, this hospital killed my friend. Now, where is he?? What did they do with him?!"

The lady looked shocked and frightened. "I'm so sorry. Maybe you can ask that doctor over there if they can let you-" she pointed to a doctor in scrubs and surgical mask.

Stan marched up to the doctor. "I want to see my friend, he's dead. PLEASE."

The doctor looked unsettled. "Oh man, I'm sorry to hear that. Uh, the morgue is that way." He pointed down the hall.

Stan rushed down the hall. Tears streamed down his face. He was so emotional that he forgot where he was going and ended up aimlessly walking in a circle through the maze of hallways. He passed tons of hospital rooms, hearing people coughing and seeing many with tubes attached to their faces. A few nurses and doctors stared at him but said nothing. Eventually he found signs pointing to the morgue. 

There were already people in there, with sheet covered bodies on stretchers everywhere. He gasped in shock. 

A doctor approached him. "Can I help you?"

Stan took a deep breath. "Is my friend here? He died. From the virus. Kyle Broflovski."

"I'm very sorry. You aren't allowed in here," the doctor replied.

"I just want to see him real quick. Can I just come in?" Stan sniffled.

"Our resources are overwhelmed. We can't allow visitors right now. We're very busy trying to help the surge of people coming in."

Stan looked furious. "You aren't helping people! You killed my friend! Where is he?!" He barged into the room and began pulling the sheets off random bodies, finding several cut open with organs missing. He nearly puked. None of them were Kyle. He continued frantically pulling sheets off bodies, only finding the bodies of elderly people. He would not stop until he found Kyle's body.

"Security!" the doctor called. A security man in a mask rushed into the room, grabbing Stan and forcefully dragging him out.

"Stop it! Get off me! I just want to see my friend!" Stan shouted, kicking and screaming. 

"Calm down. You're only making trouble for yourself and others!" the security guard warned. 

Stan ended up being forcibly removed from the hospital and told that he would be arrested if he returned. With nothing left to do, he ended up going back to Kyle's house. He fell down on their couch and cried until his throat was sore. He spent the rest of the day and night crying and staring at the walls. 

Stan's mother tried to call him but he refused to answer. He didn't want to talk to anybody. He didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to die. Unfortunately this virus was not killing him. He would need to take matters into his own hands. 

He searched the Broflovski's home for their gun, eventually finding one inside a night table in his parents bedroom. 

With tears rolling down his face, he picked up the gun and stared at it. Might as well get this over with quickly. 

There was an intense, painful ripping and popping sensation as the bullet went through his head, and then a flash of colors appeared in his vision before everything faded to black. That was the last thing he recalled before suddenly finding himself in a crowded place, surrounded by people standing about and talking.

It was hot. There were flames in the distance. He could also hear screaming voices from somewhere far away. Stan quickly realized that he was in Hell. He pinched his nose and winced. "Awww, god dammit."

Suddenly an imp appeared on the stage before the large group of people, telling the crowd to shut up. "Everyone! Welcome to Hell! Normally we're supposed to do orientation but since we're pretty swamped with an influx of newbies, we're going to just open the gates and let you all in. You bastards can figure things out on your own. They don't pay us enough for this shit." 

Another two imps came to blow horns and then opened up a large gate with a vortex portal behind it. The crowd began walking into it, disappearing one by one. When Stan got up to the portal, he walked into it and found himself immediately transported to an unfamiliar room.

It looked like a crappy hotel room. Huh. He sat down on the bed, which squeaked under his weight, and sighed. This wasn't what he was expecting. He expected to be dead and gone forever, just like Kyle. Wait, if he was here, Kyle must be too. His eyes widened with hope. 

Just as he thought about it, he heard a loud knocking at the door. It sounded like angry pounding. He hesitantly walked up to the door and opened it, just to see Kenny and Kyle standing outside in the hallway.

"You guys are here! How did you find me?" Stan asked, shocked to see both of his dead friends. Neither looked sick anymore.

Kenny grinned and waved. "We teleported. One of the few perks of this place. Be careful before opening your door for strangers. I once almost got butt raped by a horny half goat-man creature when I didn't check to see who was there first. This place is fuckin crazy." 

Kyle, meanwhile looked furious. He walked in and smacked Stan in the face. "Why did you do it?? You idiot! You had a whole life left! Now you're stuck here in this shithole with us for eternity." 

Stan rubbed his face and started crying. "I didn't want to live the rest of my life without you!"

Upon seeing Stan's distress, Kyle pulled him in for a hug. A few tears escaped Kyle's eyes as well, as he grasped his friend tightly.

"Aww, what a precious moment," Kenny said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Neither of his two friends seemed to give a damn about him. Pissed off, he poofed back to his own shitty hotel room. Unlike his so called friends, he would be returning to Earth shortly, and everyone would completely forget that he had died of a virus just a few days ago. 

Except now for Stan and Kyle, who would eventually learn that he was an immortal freak. 

He wasn't sure which place was the real Hell, this one or Earth. Both places were dirty, dingy, depressing, chaotic, full of crazy people and rats. Yes, Hell had rats. Satan decided they would make a nice addition to people's hotel rooms. Kenny watched as one scurried into his closet. Not much different from his home on Earth, really.

* * *

"I don't know why, but I tried to find your body. Just to see if it was really true. They kicked me out of the hospital because I was hysterical. And then I went back to your house and...did it." Stan shook his head, feeling like an idiot for what he had done. 

"And you didn't think about what will happen when your parents find your body, with your brain blown to pieces, and my parents come home to the bloodstains on their bedroom carpet?" Kyle sounded angry, but he was more disappointed than angry.

"I was in a crazy state of mind, OK? I just couldn't cope with you being dead. It was too much." Stan teared up again. 

Kenny sighed again, sitting on the floor as his two friends sat on the bed. He had teleported back to Stan's place two hours later, only to find the two loverboys still moping around and talking about their deaths. He was surprised that the adventurous duo hadn't gone out yet to explore the depths of hell, or try to find an escape. 

Suddenly he began to feel funny. Oh, it was that time again. He was being pulled back to Earth. "Guys, I've gotta go. I'll see you whenever I come back."

"Wait, where are you going?" Stan asked.

"I'll explain some other time," Kenny replied. He suddenly vanished.

Stan looked confused. Kyle just shrugged. 

"Well, we're apparently stuck here forever. What do you wanna do?" Stan asked.

Kyle shook his head. "There aren't many fun things to do here, from what I can tell so far. It's fucking Hell. I was told they throw parties sometimes. There's cake too, devils food cake, but it's laced with something that makes you puke for 16 hours straight. At least that's what Kenny told me." 

"Let's go outside and go for a walk," Stan said.

"We can't!" Kyle shouted.

"Why not?" 

Kyle walked to the window and opened the curtains. Outside was nothing but fire. "There is no outside to walk in!"

Stan looked frightened. "Damn, this sucks ass."

"You shouldn't have killed yourself. Even if Earth sucks, at least there's videogames," Kyle said sadly.

"There's no games here?!" Stan's jaw dropped. "What the fuck! We have to get out of here. Where's Jesus? Can't he help us?"

"I was told he only helps people on Earth. He can't contact people in hell. And we can't call people outside of Hell, the phones won't work, I already asked." 

"What about Moses or something?"

"He's a floating triangle that only answers to people who make him carved soap figurines, popcorn necklaces and macaroni crafts. But he's kind of a dick, I wouldn't ask him for help."

"We can at least try. Where do we get popcorn and macaroni noodles?" Stan asked.

"I don't fucking know!" Kyle yelled, letting himself fall onto Stan's bed. "I don't know anything about this damn place, I just got here!"

"Okay, calm down," Stan replied. 

"I'm tired. I just want to take a nap. Can I stay here? I don't want to go back to my own room. I'm afraid to be alone. I know that sounds lame, but this place scares the shit out of me."

"Yeah, dude, I wouldn't want you to leave anyway. This whole experience is freaking me out. I hope this is just a bad dream." Stan closed the curtains and laid down on the bed next to his friend.

"It's not. Or if it is, I haven't woken up yet. But no. I'm pretty sure we're dead." Kyle took a deep breath and rolled over, pulling the blanket over himself. 

"I thought death would be the end. This is insane. I still can't believe it." Stan buried his head into the pillow. At least it was somewhat comfortable. And he supposed he would have plenty of time to sleep, this being eternity and all.

They laid there in silence before Kyle spoke again. "You know, I hate that you killed yourself, but I'm glad you're here with me."

Stan smiled for the first time since this all began. "I'm glad I'm here with you too. At least it won't be so bad now."

Then they heard a sudden loud banging at the door. "Ey! Hello?? Stan? Kahl? You guys in there? It's me! It's Cartman! Open up! Yeah, um, I died. Fuckin virus is killing everyone. Hey, let me in!"

"FUCK!" Kyle yelled.

"Yeah, OK, I guess this really is Hell," Stan remarked, looking sympathetically at Kyle.

"Kill me," Kyle whispered.

"I would if I could, buddy," Stan replied with a sigh. 


End file.
